The Heart in the Security Guard
by CreamLemon
Summary: I'm obsessed with Micah from "The Doctor in the Photo."  Brennan sees Micah as just a friend, but when he offers more, it's just what she needs to get over a broken heart.  Brennan/Micah.  Complete.
1. chapters 1 and 2

A/N: Most ppl are going to hate me for this, but I haven't been able to get Micah out of my head since "The Doctor in the Photo" aired. I adore him to the point that I don't care if Bones and Booth never get together as long as she's with him. I don't know what the show has planned for him, if anything (though on IMDB the character is listed with a last name, which is a good sign), but the way they interacted during that episode just made me melt.

The way I see it, the characters love Hannah so much the only way to be rid of her is to kill her, and that wont happen till the finale, so we have another 15 episodes or so, and then Booth will have to get over her, which will take time…and has anyone noticed the lack of sexual tension this season? It's been making me cranky, so I'm ready for Bones to move on.

If you like my fics, there's a link to my online novel in my profile.

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Dr. Temperance Brennan raised her eyebrows when she heard music blasting through her lab. Coming through the doors she couldn't help but smile. Micah was dancing on the forensics platform, the music blaring from an MP3 player plugged into a pair of speakers. She stood silently, amused, as he danced. Eventually he turned and saw her. "Doc." He hurried over and turned off the music. "Hi."

"Oh, don't stop on my account," she said. "You looked like you were enjoying yourself." She put her hands behind her back, hiding the bag she was holding.

"Sometimes you start to fall asleep, wandering around this place by yourself for eight hours," he excused himself. "Gotta wake up, get the blood flowing."

"Understandable," she said, approaching the platform. "You obviously have a keen mind-it's going to waste being a mere security guard."

"Well, thank you."

"I'm sure you are often bored here at night."

"I listen to books on tape, so it's not all bad. Recently I've been listening to your books."

"_My_ books?"

"Yeah, they're interesting. I have to say, I like the forensic bits more than the fluffy stuff."

Brennan felt a flash of excitement. "Really? Because you know, I think that is the most important aspect of my books. Everyone else seems to disagree."

"Don't get me wrong, I like the other stuff too. It's just…you are a transparent writer."

"Transparent?" Her excitement died. She hated criticism.

"I can see that there are a lot of real-life parallels in your books. It feels kind of like I'm spying on you."

"The books are completely different from my real life," she insisted. "I wish people would stop making those assumptions."

"My apologies," he said. "If you say they're totally different, I believe you." She had a feeling he didn't really mean it, which was interesting since she usually couldn't tell when people were lying.

"Well," she said quickly, ready to pass her mind over that odd realization. "I just wanted to stop by and-and thank you for your help on that case last week."

"All I did was babble," he said.

"No, no. You did much more." She handed him the bag she'd been hiding. "You helped me…rearrange my mind. Something I really needed."

"You didn't have to do that," he said, accepting the bag and pulling out a bottle of wine. "Wow. The good stuff. I should help you with your cases more often."

She smiled again. "Well, if you ever want to, I wouldn't mind."

"Thanks." She smiled at his smile, and they smiled at each other a little too long.

"Well," she said, voice abrupt. "I'd better get going."

"And I should get back to work," he said, glancing down at the bottle of wine. "Thanks again."

"It's the least I can do," she said, and turned away. "Bye."

"Goodbye Dr. Brennan," he called after her.

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Brennan walked quickly as she left the building, but paused for a moment when she got into her car, giving herself a moment to come down from a sudden rush of adrenaline. [ Adrenaline? Where did that come from? ] She'd spent the last three days staying at home as much as possible, laying in bed and eating extremely expensive ice cream, which Angela had been kind enough to bring over. She was just starting to feel like herself again, except with a strange metaphorical hole where her metaphorical heart should be. Angela promised her that she would, in time, find something to fill that hole, but she couldn't help but find that to be very unlikely.

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Pt 2

Two days later Brennan came into work and found an envelope taped to her office door. She stood staring at it, unsure what to do, when Angela approached her. "What's this?" she asked, spying the envelope immediately.

"I don't know," she answered, still staring.

"Well," Angela said after a pause. "Aren't you going to open it?"

"Right." She peeled it off the door and opened it. There was a card inside with a cartoon cat on the front. 'Thanks for the wine,' it read inside. 'Maybe you want to help me drink it sometime?'

Angela stared at Micah's signature. "Security Micah?" she said, looking up at her best friend and raised her eyebrows. "You sent him wine?"

"He's a friend," Brennan said simply. "That's all."

"Sounds like he wants to be more than friends." She followed Brennan into her office.

"Don't be silly. Micah doesn't think that way about me. Why would he?"

"Sweetie, why _wouldn't_ he is the better question. C'mon. Looking the way you do, all guys think that way about you."

"Until I start speaking," she replied, feeling depressed. "Then they lose all interest."

"But he talks to you all the time," Angela said as she turned to leave. "Think about that."

Micah? Liking her? She sat down at her desk and stared at the card. But did she like him? Of course she liked him. He was funny and said interesting things and brought her cookies when she worked late. But it never occurred to her that he might see more into that bottle of wine. She sighed. She would have to let him down easily.

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That night she found him making his rounds in the halls of the Jeffersonian. "Hello Micah," she said, feeling nervous.

"Hey," he said, giving her a big, slightly goofy grin. When he smiled it made her want to smile too. "I take it you got my note?"

"Yes. And I just came here to say…" Say what? Sorry, Micah, I'm getting over a crippling disappointment and I don't want to date right now?

He seemed to guess what her pause suggested. "Hey, don't worry about it," he said. "It was just a whim." The grin had disappeared from his face and Brennan felt…guilty.

"I'd love to," she said quickly.

He perked up immediately. "Really? Great. What about dinner at my place this Saturday?"

"That sounds wonderful."

"Great. Really great."

"Great," she echoed.

"Totally casual," he added. "It'll be great."

"You said that already."

"Yeah. I did."

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Friday found Brennan pacing her office. She didn't notice Dr. Saroyan watching her until she spoke: "Watching you is making me dizzy."

Brennan faltered. "Oh. Sorry. I was just…thinking."

"I just got a call from the FBI. A body was discovered in a sand pit on a golf course."

"Sand pit?"

"Yes. Very shallow grave. Booth is coming to pick you up."

"Okay," she said, grabbing her jacket and purse. The murder business had been slow and she hadn't seen him all week, instead spending the time with several sets of unidentified remains already in bone storage (she and her interns had successfully identified a hiker that had gone missing in 1976, but hadn't had any luck with the other two skeletons).

Booth was waiting for her in the parking deck, and after saying hello they didn't talk for half the drive. "Are we okay?" he asked finally.

Brennan let out a sigh of relief. At least the uncomfortable silence had been broken, so they could have their one uncomfortable conversation and hopefully get back to normal. "Of course we are. I would rather work with you than never see you at all."

"Good. That's good."

"I even have a date tomorrow night," she added, wanting him to know she was okay.

"A date? That fast, huh?"

"Yes," she answered, not wanting to tell him it was a casual, just friends situation. "I'm moving on, just like you did."

"Good," he answered, no doubt as uncomfortable as she was. "I'm glad." He didn't ask anymore questions, and talked only about the case until they got to the golf course.

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	2. chapters 3 and 4

A/N: I'm glad everyone is liking this. I'd been waiting for someone else to write it but no one did, so I had to take matters into my own hands. Just so you all know, I dont have internet at home so this is getting updated when I have acess, which is variable. I also have a serial novel that I update every week. The addy is in my profile (not the home page link-I cant get it to change tho).

Pt 3

Saturday Brennan pulled into the driveway of a small white house with a 'for sale' sign in the neatly manicured front yard. She noted that the truck in the driveway looked about fifteen years old. She actually felt nervous and took a few breaths at the wheel before getting out of the car and going up to the front door.

Micah must have been waiting for her because he opened the door almost immediately after she rang the bell.

"Hi," he said, looking different out of his security uniform. He was wearing a blue polo shirt and jeans. He wasn't wearing shoes, just black socks. "You found the place okay?" he stepped aside so she could enter and was immediately accosted by a large striped cat, jumping onto the arm of the sofa situated next to the door and rubbing its head against her hip, no doubt getting hair all over her dress.

"Oh, you have a cat."

"His name is Socrates. Don't tell me you're a dog person."

"I like animals in general," she said, stroking the fat tabby. "Once I almost got a dog, but as a child I only had things like rodents and snakes."

"I bet you were very interesting when you were younger."

"Well, that's not how my classmates would have described me," she admitted. "You have a lovely home," she said because it was what people said. The truth was, it wasn't anything like she expected. She imagined all mens' homes to be a bit like Booth's place, full of vintage clutter and dark, masculine furniture. But the living room was painted pale yellow with a pink flowered border around the top of the walls. The sofa and love seat were floral patterned and there was a crocheted doily on the coffee table with an arrangement of silk flowers.

"My wife decorated, not me," Micah admitted, not quite meeting her eyes.

"Your wife?" Now she was confused.

"I'm-I'm a widower."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago," he said, shoving his hands in his back pockets. "Cancer. You'd think I'd get used to it by now, but I always feel strange when I tell people."

"I can't imagine how that must feel," she admitted as he ushered her into a tiny dining room. The table was set with simple gold-rimmed white plates on blue placemats, her bottle of wine sitting in a bucket of ice near the center along with a bowl of salad, a basket of bread, and heavy covered dish.

"I'm not much of a cook," he said, obviously eager to move away from the conversation of his wife. "But I can make a mean chicken alfredo." He pulled out a chair for her.

"Well, everything looks wonderful."

"I'm glad you came over, Doc," he said, meeting her eyes for the first time since opening the door. "It gets lonely sometimes, here by myself."

"It's my pleasure," she said with a smile, and was glad she came.

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Micah did indeed make good chicken alfredo, and Brennan felt very full of both good food and good conversation by the time they had finished eating, and after three glasses of wine she was feeling particularly good.

"Why don't we take this party down to the den?" Micah suggested, standing up with a stretch. "It's where I spend most of my time anymore." Brennan nodded in assent and he picked up the wine bottle, which was actually a second bottle that he had bought (he informed her) that afternoon.

She followed him with her half-full glass down to the basement, where she immediately felt more comfortable. The den was finished with ugly wood paneling and green carpet. There was a battered brown sofa in front of a new plasma TV, a billiards table, and most importantly, an entire wall full of books and model airplanes. A table in one corner contained a new model plane project half finished. This room _felt_ like Micah in a way the rest of the house couldn't.

"It's a little shabby," he apologized. "But things tend to get that way when you've been in the same place for twenty years." Brennan had never asked Micah how old he was, but she estimated somewhere between forty-five and fifty.

She sipped her wine and wandered over to the bookshelves. The upper shelves held paperbacks-westerns, crime novels, science fiction. The lower shelves were arranged in the dewy decimal system and seemed to cover every topic imaginable. Most of them looked like library discards and many of them were college text books. "This is an impressive library," she said as she scanned the spines.

"I've read them all," he offered.

Her eyes traveled over to a framed photograph next to one of the model planes on a middle shelf. It was a portrait of a little boy of maybe ten. "I didn't know you had a son," she said.

He reached over her head and she was aware of him standing close behind her. He plucked another frame off a higher shelf and handed it to her. "This one is a little more recent." It was a snapshot of a short, round-faced young man in a graduation cap and gown. He had his arm around an equally short, frail looking woman with bright eyes and an even brighter scarf tied around her head. "He's twenty-one now, in college out west." He didn't mention the woman in the picture, who must be his wife shortly before she died. "He's doing well, but he's too much like his old man."

"How's that?" she asked, replacing the photo and turning around to face Micah.

"He's more into knowledge for knowledge's sake than any actual application of it."

"What is he majoring in?"

"A double major in History and Sociology."

"I always liked History," she said, sitting down on the couch. "And Sociology is very similar to Cultural Anthropology. I don't disapprove."

"Me either." He joined her, sitting on the middle cushion and turning slightly to face her. She noticed that their knees were pointing towards each other, a subconscious sign of attraction. She didn't usually think about things like that, but Sweets had mentioned it in relation to her and Booth once and it had stuck in her brain.

"We've never really had personal conversations before," she said. "Why is that?"

He shrugged. "I haven't done anything personal for quite some time. I guess after my wife-her name was Melissa-died, I didn't really want to get personal with anyone."

"I'm not always good at getting personal either," she admitted, and more importantly, felt comfortable admitting. "But that's because I have such a hard time understanding people and being understood."

"I always understand you," he said.

"I know. It's…nice."

They both fell silent and sipped their wine. She was starting to become slightly drunk and knew she should probably stop before she wasn't able to drive home. "Would it be nice if I kissed you?" he asked quietly.

She drained her glass the rest of the way and set it down on the coffee table. "I don't know," she admitted. "I suppose it depends on how good of a kisser you are."

He smiled a little. "I admit I'm out of practice. But I think we should find out."

As it turned out, he was a very good kisser.

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Pt 4

Dr. Brennan had been planning to come in early Sunday morning to work on the golf course victim (Tom Volger, age 56, cause of death still to be determined) but Micah was used to staying up all night, and it took her a while to feel sober enough to drive so by the time she staggered into the lab without enough sleep it was already ten in the morning. At eleven Angela called her.

"Well?" she demanded instead of saying hello. "How did it go?" Brennan felt herself blushing, which was ridiculous because there was nothing to blush about.

"Well-" she started, but Angela cut her off.

"Wait! Don't tell me now, let's do lunch. I'm about starving anyway."

Brennan glanced at the cleaned bones on her table. She really wanted to work-but at the same time she hadn't told anyone else she was having dinner with Micah and she discovered she wanted to talk to someone about it after all. "Okay. The diner in an hour?"

"Can we make it half an hour? I think I'd drop dead of starvation first."

"That is highly unlikely," she informed her friend, but agreed to meet her in half an hour. She pulled off her lab coat and went to gather her things. She was never going to get anything done at the rate she was going.

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Angela made her wait until they had their food, and she watched with distaste as Angela delved into her cheeseburger, fries, and double order of onion rings. "So spill," her best friend demanded.

"I kissed him," Brennan admitted. "A lot." She couldn't help but smile at the memory. "It was good."

"There's something to be said for older men," Angela said around her fries. "The young ones might be in their sexual prime, but experience…."

"He was married," Brennan said, stabbing at her salad. "His wife died a few years ago."

"Poor thing."

"He has a son in college."

"Wow."

She looked up from her salad. "I didn't think I was attracted to him, Angela. But I am. What should I do?"

"What do you mean? Go date him!"

"It's just…I don't usually date men like him…"

"You mean out of shape and balding?"

"I _shouldn't_ be attracted to him. It's confusing me."

"I've gone out with unattractive people lots of times," Angela said. "It's totally no big deal. See, you're attracted to his _soul_, which is better than liking someone for their face or their body."

"I don't believe in souls."

"Tell the truth. You're just afraid of letting anyone else in. Booth rejected you, so now you're making up excuses to avoid any other intimacies. Look, going out with Micah might be just what you need to get over Booth. Micah's a sweetie-pie. I thoroughly approve."

"But what if I hurt him the way I hurt Booth last year?"

"Love hurts. I think someone wrote a song about it." She grinned over her burger. "It'll be okay."

"I don't love him," Brennan said was a grumble, stabbing at the lettuce on her plate. "I just like him a lot."

"That's how it normally starts."


	3. chapter 5

A/N: I kinda see Micah as a super-Booth. He's a normal, blue collar, average kind of guy (like Booth). But he's educated (self-educated anyway) and he understands Brennan a lot better than Booth does, and she understands him.

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Brennan met Booth at his front door the next morning, a bag of bagels and three coffees in hand. Booth had obviously been in a hurry to get to the door-he was wearing boxer shorts and a tight pink t-shirt that did not cover his midriff. "I assume that's Hannah's?" Brennan said, walking past him into the apartment. It didn't hurt as much as she thought it would.

"Bones, what are you doing here?"

"I was up, so I thought I'd bring you breakfast. I got enough for everybody," she said as Hannah appeared in the doorway wrapped in a silky blue robe. It was seeing Hannah that made a lurching feeling in her chest and a cold lump in the pit of her stomach. Hannah that had everything she wanted, Hannah that was everything she was not.

"You're in a chipper mood, aren't you Temperance?" she said.

"I'm awake," she answered, handing Hannah a cup, knowing she was acting more rational than she felt. "I didn't know how you liked your coffee so I just got black." She handed Booth another cup. "Four sugars, three creamers."

"Seeley, you drink your coffee like a teenage girl," Hannah laughed, sipping hers as-is.

"I don't," he shot back, setting the cup down again. "Excuse me while I go change."

Hannah shrugged. "He's been in a bad mood for like, a week now. Did something happen while you were investigating that doctor? You were pretty tense that one day."

"It was a rough case," Brennan answered slowly. Booth hadn't told her anything. She didn't know about their past. If she were vindictive she could tell Hannah the whole story, and probably watch the relationship crumble. "I guess emotions were just running a little high."

Hannah looked at her over her cup. "I didn't think you ever let emotions get in the way of anything."

Brennan felt a slight spark of annoyance. She could be just as emotional as the next person. She wasn't a cold fish. She wasn't. "Sometimes," she said finally, "objectivity is not the best way to solve a case. Sometimes you need a little emotion." She felt herself blinking back a tear. "Just don't tell Booth I said that."

Hannah laughed. "Okay. Oh-bagels!"

Brennan couldn't help liking Hannah. She was truly a good person, smart and interesting. And she was beautiful-more beautiful than herself. She could see how Booth would choose Hannah over her. She was everything Booth wanted, everything Brennan could never be. Perhaps it was for the best, and Brennan could accept that-though it didn't make it hurt any less.

Booth returned fully dressed a few minutes later while the two women were eating in silence. He seemed less-flustered now that he was dressed. "You didn't have to do all this," he said as he sat down next to Hannah.

"I just wanted to bring you breakfast," Brennan answered simply, and caught him glaring at her while Hannah's head was turned.

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Once they were in the car Booth turned to her. "You can't go doing this," he said.

"Doing what?"

"Barging in on Hannah and me whenever you want-"

"Oh," she said, realization dawning. "Did I interrupt the two of you having intercourse?"

"Don't say it like that!" he exclaimed. "And yes, you did. Happy?"

"Not really. I'm sorry I ruined your morning." She looked down at her hands. "I was just trying to do something nice, to show you there's no hard feelings."

"But there are, aren't there?" He was looking at her with that determined, passionate glare he had.

"I wasn't trying to ruin your morning," she insisted. "I'm sorry if I did."

"Just-just call first next time, okay?"

"Okay." She didn't want to look at him, so she looked out the window instead. Was this how things were going to be now?

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They wrapped up the case that afternoon, but instead of asking her out for drinks Booth simply dropped her at her car and went home. Brennan sighed and leaned against the car. She found she was angry. So it was okay for Booth to pine and hurt over her rejection, but she wasn't allowed to do the same? [ You put yourself in this position, ] she lectured. [ You could have kissed him back a year ago. ] She kicked backwards at the tire. [ You pride yourself in being rational. So _be_ rational. He's not yours, move on, get over it. ] She already knew she couldn't be mad at Hannah, and Booth had every right to be angry with her. [ But he has no right to accuse me of ulterior motives when I have none. ]

As she was driving home her phone rang-a text. "I go into work at ten-how 'bout a late dinner? Eight?"

Micah again.

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Brennan smoothed her skirt over her thighs as she sat down. She had suggested the Japanese steakhouse, but regretted it a little bit when she noticed Micah raising his eyebrows as he scanned the menu. Prices ran a little high at the place, and she remembered that he was a _security guard_. (She was pretending not to notice that he had simply thrown a black jacket over his work uniform and called it dressed up.) "We can go Dutch," she offered.

"But I invited _you_ to dinner."

"I am very wealthy-I don't mind."

"You say that so casually," he said with a grin.

"I hope you don't find it intimidating," she said. "Most men do."

He smiled a little and shook his head. "I find your honesty refreshing," he said. "Strange, but refreshing." He closed his menu. "We'll go Dutch. Thank you."

After dinner Brennan drove Micah back to the Jeffersonian, where she had picked him up earlier that evening. "I'll walk you inside," she offered.

The silent halls of the Jeffersonian were a different place after closing, and she found herself wandering with him in sections of the museum she hardly ever visited. She felt so comfortable walking next to him-even after he had changed completely into his guard uniform she wasn't ready to leave.

"One of the other reasons I took this job was so I could do this," he said as they walked through the dimly lit halls. "I get to walk the entire building every night. You really get to know the exhibits. They're like old friends." He put his arm around her shoulders as they walked.

She nodded. Micah was so wonderful, but Booth still lingered in her mind. "Micah," she said finally. "I think I need to confess something."

"Yeah?" He pulled away to face her properly.

"You know my partner, Agent Booth?"

Micah sighed. "Not personally, no. But the two of you are more than partners, aren't you? I knew it. You can see it in the books."

As much as comparisons to her books and her real life annoyed her, she didn't protest. "No-no. I mean, we are more than just partners, but we're not a couple or anything. He-he doesn't love me…anymore." She'd never phrased it quite that way before. It really hurt to say it like that.

"I'm sorry." There was no sarcasm in his voice-Micah was sincere, as always.

"It's something I'm still dealing with, but expect to get over eventually. I just thought you should be aware of my…emotional availability."

"So what do you want out of…whatever this is?" he asked. His face was very serious. "What am I?"

"I like you very much. You are intelligent and interesting, and I enjoyed kissing you the other night. I wouldn't mind doing it again." She hoped that would make him smile, but he didn't.

"I guess I have a confession to make as well," he said.

"Okay."

He seemed to study her for a long time before continuing. "You are the first woman I have kissed since my wife died three years ago."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. She was a very special woman. I loved her…very much."

"I'm so very sorry."

"So lets just take things slow. No commitment, no promises, no obligations. We'll just have fun, and see what happens. Okay?"

She let out the breath she'd been holding. "That sounds really good Micah."

"If in a few months we want to change that status, we will."

"Okay." She smiled. "So," she said, ready to take the conversation back to where it started. "Which part of the Jeffersonian is your favorite?"


	4. chapter 6

A/N: I'm glad everyone is enjoying the fic.

I really enjoyed writing this scene. It was just...fun.

Trekkieb-I'm glad you said that because I was worried I wasn't quite getting her. I'm actually finding Micah the most difficult since I dont want to go ooc, but he's only had one ep...

Rancor01-Realistically Booth probably has a degree in *something* but he's never mentioned it on the show. It's probably some meathead business degree or something he got so he could play college ball. Assuming he has a degree, its obviously nothing Bones cares about, and nothing he cares to brag about.

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Part 6

"I'm not going to let you take me to any more lectures," Brennan said as she and Micah left the Jeffersonian's lecture hall. "You didn't tell me it was on cryptozoology!"

He laughed. "C'mon Doc. I thought his home movies of the yeti were fascinating."

"It was obviously a man in a gorilla suit," she said. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, and Brennan felt a warmth spread through her face. They had been seeing each other for a month, and things were going well. [ Except I spent the last hour learning about the loch nest monster. ]

"Do you want to go out for drinks?"

"I will even _buy_ the drinks," she said. "As long as you never do that to me again."

"C'mon," he said with a smirk. "You didn't even find it the least bit funny?"

"I don't know how you can laugh at the stupidity and gullibility of others. That man was insane. I can't believe he has a doctorate." Micah wasn't perfect. His interest in learning did not end with the arts, sciences, and literature-he had an extensive knowledge of movie and sports trivia, which she found to be a waste of time, and he obviously considered cryptozoology a valid study. He also tended to burp after drinking beer.

"Melissa believed in the Loch Nest monster," he said. "And ghosts. She was as normal as anyone. Sometimes the absurd is just what we need to make life interesting."

"That can be true," she conceded. It was interesting how often his wife entered into the conversation. She didn't like to talk about Booth beyond relation to work, but Melissa was almost a third wheel in their strange relationship. She didn't mind. She was too rational to be jealous of a dead woman. And she supposed it was different to lose someone you loved to death, as opposed to losing someone to another woman.

"From a cultural point of view," Micah continued, "Urban legends are an integral part of western society. Anthropologically-"

"Don't start with that," she laughed. "They're nothing but hoaxes!"

"I'm sure you'll come around to my way of thinking after we get a few shots into you," he offered, and she laughed as he led the way to the parking deck.

"Where do you want to go?" she asked him.

"Well, if you're buying, why don't we try the Founding Fathers? I'm always meaning to go there, but Lou at the pub down the road gives me discounts, so I've never been motivated enough."

"Sure," she said, feeling some apprehension because that was _her_ bar. She still hadn't told anyone about Micah other than Angela. Whenever she was open about her relationships with her friends censure usually followed, and everyone was so enamored with the idea of her and Booth…she just wasn't sure how to broach the subject. Micah wasn't like the men she normally dated. She didn't know how they would react, and she'd hate it if they made fun.

Brennan was a little relieved that no one she knew was there, and after getting their drinks they settled into one of her favorite tables. "This place is nice," Micah offered.

"Yes, it is."

"Have you been here before?"

"Often, actually," she admitted. "Booth and I used to come here after cases."

"Used to?"

"Not so much recently," she admitted, ducking her head. "Booth has become uncomfortable with the idea of being around me in a social setting. He seems to think that I am irrationally attached to him since admitting my feelings a few weeks ago."

"Before we started dating."

"Yes."

"And those feelings now?" He was fishing for…something. Well, she believed in honesty in a relationship.

"Have lessened considerably, due to time-and your wonderful company." He liked that. He smiled and lifted his glass of beer in a toast.

"Cheers for that," he said, and she clinked her glass against his. "I have to say, Doc, that these have been some of the best times I've had in a long time. Thank you."

"No, Micah. Thank you."

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After that they met at the Founding Fathers often, usually between when Brennan got off from work and Micah went in. After only a few of those meetings she encountered Booth and Hannah. She knew Booth saw them, eyes growing wide before he turned away. It was Hannah that called out her name and pulled him over to their table. "Temperance!" she said, "I haven't seen you in forever! Who's your friend?"

Brennan did her best to smile as Booth trudged up beside his girlfriend. "Hannah Burley, Seeley Booth, this is Micah Leggit."

Micah stood up and offered his hand to them both. "Pleased to meet you. I've heard a lot about you, Agent Booth."

Booth shook his hand a little too hard from the set, emotionless expression on Micah's face. "You know, that's funny, because I haven't heard anything about you. Mind if we sit?"

Brennan opened her mouth to protest but Booth was already sitting down, and Hannah seemed so pleased to see her she couldn't say no. She turned to Micah and gave him a weak smile. Under the table he squeezed her thigh in comfort and left his hand there-not something he usually did.

Hannah, her usual charming self, gave a dazzling smile and started in on the particulars. "So what do you do, Micah?" she asked, fishing the cherry out of her drink. How could a woman who drinks her coffee black enjoy fruity cocktails?

"Security," he answered with a smile. "At the Jeffersonian."

"So is that how you and Temperance met?"

"We met during a lecture on cryptozoology," Micah said, and Brennan rolled her eyes. Whatever was going on she didn't want to be a part of it.

"Bones just loves her crypto-whatever you said," Booth said.

"That's the study of imaginary beings," Hannah said softly, patting Booth's arm. "It was a joke."

Brennan stood up. "I'm going to get another drink," she announced. "Micah?" He held up his half full glass.

"I'm good. I have to work in an hour anyway."

While waiting at the bar Booth came up beside her. "So, a security guard." The teasing tones his voice usually held were absent. Brennan did her best to pretend everything was normal.

"So what? He's very intelligent."

"I see. So he's the one you talk to. Where's the one you sleep with?"

She felt her face burning as the bartender handed over her drink. "You don't think I'm sleeping with him?"

Behind her Booth laughed. "I know you Bones. He's not your type."

"You don't get to have an opinion about who I date, Booth." she spat back. "Micah is kind and generous and just-just wonderful. He's a good man." She pushed away from Booth. "In some ways he's a better man for me than you." She said this softly, more to herself than to Booth, and as soon as she said it she knew it to be true.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked Micah when she got back to the table, interrupting Micah and Hannah laughing about something. [ Everyone really does love her. ]

"Everything okay?" he asked, standing up.

"Yes. Everything's fine. I just want some fresh air."

"Sure." He grabbed their jackets. "Nice meeting you Hannah," he said, and looked up. "Agent Booth."

"Bye," Brennan said quickly.

"Temperance," Hannah called after them. Brennan turned back. "We should hang out sometime. We'll get Cam and Angela and have a girls night."

"Sure," she said, wanting nothing more than to get away. "See you."


	5. chapter 7

**A/N: One more chapter after this one. It's already written, but i'm drawing it out and making you wait because I'm evil. **

**Just a reminder: I have an ongoing serial novel that updates once a week. there is a link in my profile-in the body of it. **

**Part 7**

**They didn't really talk until they were back at the Jeffersonian. What Booth said had bothered her because she _hadn't_ slept with Micah yet. It wasn't because she didn't want to, but she was very comfortable with what they'd had up to that point. Aside from some kissing and light petting they had not gone any further. It was no wonder why-she had gone into this still hung up on Booth, and Micah had a dead wife to come to terms with.**

"**What are you thinking about Doc?" Micah asked as they walked together to the locker room where Micah clocked in and strapped on his belt and badge. **

"**I find that I am angry at Booth," she said. "He was being mean at the bar."**

"**I'm sorry to hear that. Do you need me to go beat him up?"**

"**Is our relationship at that level?" she asked with a small smile. "I don't think you should beat him up. You would lose."**

"**I would still do it if you wanted me to," he assured, and she felt compelled to kiss him.**

"**That's really sweet of you, Micah." **

"**I try," he answered.**

"**No," she said back. "You don't have to try. You're wonderful. You're always wonderful." **

**Neither of them said any more as they walked towards the lab. It would be wrong for her to make a move on him just because of what Booth had said. When she reached the lab Brennan went to her office, not ready to leave Micah yet for the evening but needing time to think.**

**She looked over a report from Hodgins and made a few notes, but she was having a hard time concentrating. She set the folder aside and got up, making her way to the break room and starting a pot of coffee. While it was brewing she checked the fridge and found half a chocolate strawberry cheesecake with Angela's name scrawled across the box. She smiled a little. "Sorry Angela," she said, pulling the box out and finding a pair of plates.**

**When Micah walked through on his rounds about twenty minutes later he found dessert and coffee waiting for him in the lounge area, and Brennan, wearing as little as possible while still being dressed-in just the camisole she was wearing under her blouse and her skirt.**

"**What's the occasion?" he asked with a smile.**

"**You brought me dessert a few times at work. I thought I would return the favor. I'm trying to be-" and it was hard to get the word out- "romantic."**

"**Romantic, huh?" he replied, kissing her before sitting down and taking up his fork. **

"**It's not something I'm very good at," she told him.**

"**Well, job well-done."**

"**Good. I stole the cheesecake from Angela."**

**He laughed. "Do you have any idea how charming your awkwardness is?"**

"**Most of the time I find it a hindrance," she said, taking a bite of her cheesecake but not tasting it. "I even feel awkward around Angela, and she's my best friend."**

"**Do you feel awkward around me?"**

"**I do right now," Brennan admitted. **

"**Why?"**

"**Because." She really wished she was drinking alcohol instead of coffee. The two drinks she had earlier in the evening were out of her system at that point. **

"**I've been considering the idea of taking our relationship to the next level and have decided that if you find it to be agreeable, I would like to." She laughed at hearing herself. "I'm sorry. That wasn't very romantic at all, was it?"**

**He put down his fork. "By the next level you mean-"**

"**Sexual intercourse, obviously."**

"**Obviously," he answered, smiling. "And did running into Agent Booth tonight have anything to do with this decision?"**

"**I can understand how you would think that, but while he was irritating, I don't want to have sex with you to get back at him."**

"**Then why?"**

"**Because." [ Because? ] "Because no one else makes me smile the way you do whenever you walk into a room."**

**Micah pushed the cheesecake away and looked up at her, his face completely deadpan. "I'm glad."**

**Brennan let out a sigh of relief. "But I don't want to pressure you," she said quickly, remembering Melissa. "I understand if you're not ready, what with your wife and all."**

**He nodded and picked up his fork again. "Let me think about it," he said, and continued to eat. Brennan tried to do the same, but discovered that she wasn't hungry.**

**88888**

**Giving up on real work, Brennan stared her monitor. Cathy Reichs and Agent Andy were having issues, and so was her book. It had been for quite some time. She hardly worked on it in Maluku, and coming home hadn't improved matters. Her publishers were getting restless. **

**She wondered if there was a point where it was time to end the series, or maybe to kill off Agent Andy and make room for someone new in Cathy's life. Brennan was more amused with the idea than she would have ever admitted to anyone. Her publishers would kill her. The fans would be so disappointed. **

**How would it happen? It had to be a spectacular death, maybe protecting Cathy. Or Cathy could, after a long absence from Andy, identify a set of remains as his…she liked that. The intimacy of handling his bones, how heart-broken she would be when she discovered, from the remodeling on his skeleton, every injury he had ever sustained-some of them helping her-exactly who he was.**

**Brennan found herself both smiling and tearing up at the same time. What a fantastic ending to their partnership. A perfect ending.**

**88888**

**Micah found her at her desk, dozing with her head on her folded arms a few hours later. She woke to his hand brushing her cheek. "Hey," he said. "You look like you've been crying."**

"**I've been thinking about my books. All good things must come to an end sometime." She'd opened a new word processing document and had started plotting her next book. The last book.**

"**You're thinking about wrapping up the series?"**

"**Sometimes you have to know when to quit. I think Cathy and Andy have had their moment." She got up with a stretch and walked across the office, sitting down on the sofa. "I should go home and go to bed."**

"**If you can wait a few hours, I'll join you." He sat next to her, his hand sliding up her leg, under her skirt. **

**She smiled a tiny smile. "Can I nap until you get off work?"**

"**Of course." He squeezed her leg and kissed her, long and hard-a lover's kiss. She smiled against his lips and pulled him closer, and he shifted to cover her, straddling her lap. "But do you really want to nap right now?"**

**She looked up into his face over hers and felt something. Something strange and lurching in her chest that she hadn't really expected to feel. "Not really," she said, her voice little more than a whisper. Her hand snaked up between them and she cupped his cheek. "Not at all."**


	6. Chapter 8

A/N: Last part, and my favorite part of the whole story. There's a bit more i would have liked to do-a girl talk scene between Hannah and Brennan, and I never got to use Micah's catch phrase. Oh well. I think you will find Booth somewhat redeemed in his assholeness. I came very close to re-writing the last two chapters as NC-17, but resisted.

Writing a Bones fic was fun-I might do it again sometime. I'm thinking about a cross over with Castle. Anyway, the semester has started up so dunno how much time I'll have. My online novel will always be updated once a week though, if you're looking for more. Link is in my profile.

888888

Part 8

They never made it back to her bed. She couldn't help but smile the next morning when she left the Jeffersonian, showered and changed, and returned to work just in time, lacking in sleep and not caring.

She was still smiling a few hours later as she examined a set of remains when Dr. Saroyan stepped into the room. "Can I help you?" Brennan asked when she finally looked up. Cam had been staring at her for three minutes according to her watch.

"Um, yes."

"Is there something bothering you?" she asked when her boss continued not to say anything.

"Could I…see you in my office?"

"Of course." Her mood began to lessen as she followed her boss. She never did anything wrong, and yet she had the distinct feeling of being taken to the principal's office.

In her office Dr. Saroyan handed her a DVD. "What's this?"

"I didn't think I would ever have to tell _you_ of all people, Dr. Brennan, about discretion in the workplace."

"What? _Oh._ Uh oh." Booth had insisted a security camera be installed in her office back when Gormagon was sending her things. A camera pointed at the door, which the sofa was in clear view of. "I'm sorry," she said, feeling cold. "It will never happen again-"

"No, it wont."

"You said that very decisively."

"Well, Mr. Leggit's boss was the one who-" Brennan ran out of the room before she could finished. [ He can't lose his job over me, ] she thought as she hurried to the security office. Her velocity was so great she couldn't stop herself from running straight into Micah as he left the office.

"Hey, where's the fire?" he asked, grabbing her by the shoulders. She studied his face. He didn't look like he had been fired.

"Cam said-there's a tape-did you lose your job over me?"

"No, I didn't lose my job." Indiscretions aside, she couldn't help kissing him in relief. "They did, however, move me to the day shift."

"Day shift?"

"I convinced my boss I was too bored alone by myself at night and that a more stimulating work environment would assure that this would never happen again."

"You're not mad at me?"

"What? Of course not. Why would I be mad?"

"It's my fault you're in trouble. If I'd controlled myself-"

"Don't ever control yourself," he cut her off. "I really like it when you're…out of control."

"I liked it too," she said, smiling because he was smiling. "Everything's good then?"

"Yes."

"And last night?"

"Was amazing." She felt a glow when he said that.

"Well, good."

"Maybe we can do it again tonight, in a bed this time?"

"Why don't you come over to my place for dinner?"

88888

Brennan still had adrenaline rushing though her system a short time later. Micah had gone home for some much needed rest, and she was working to identify a man that had been found in an abandoned mine. "I tried to tell you he'd just been transferred," Cam said from the doorway. "You ran awfully fast."

"I guess I panicked."

"You never panic."

"There's a first time for everything."

"So," she said, stepping into the room. "You and Micah. I never expected that."

"Because he's a security guard? Because he's not overly attractive? Because I find that on further intimacies, bald can be…sexy."

"No arguments here," Cam said. "I've always had a thing for Patrick Stewart. I'm just…glad you found someone, after, you know, the thing with you and Booth."

Before Brennan could reply Hodgins burst into the room. "Hey, I just heard from Naomi in Paleontology that you were caught boning a security guard in your office. Isn't that hilarious?"

Both Brennan and Dr. Saroyan glared at him, and his amused smile vanished. "Or…not hilarious."

Angela was right on his heels. "Sweetie, what's going on? The whole museum is saying-" She paused at the audience she wasn't expecting.

Brennan sighed. This was not how she wanted their relationship to be revealed. "Why don't you all come over for dinner tonight and meet Micah properly?"

"So you _are_ boning a security guard?" Angela smacked Hodgins and shooed him out of the room.

"Sounds great, Sweetie," she said, following her husband. "I can't wait. Should I explain to Hodgins-"

"Please," Brennan said, masking a groan. Cam followed them, and Brennan began to rapidly plan a large dinner party instead of an intimate meal, to avoid, for a moment, thinking that she would have to invite Booth and Hannah and Sweets as well.

88888

"Come in," Brennan called from the kitchen at the first knock on her door. Micah came in and offered her a bouquet of roses. "Thank you," she said, beyond pleased. "You didn't have to get me anything, considering I'm about to put you though even more torture today. I'm really sorry you're in trouble."

"I'm not in trouble," he said kissing her. "Apparently I'm a hero."

"A hero?"

"Not to be crass, but the majority of the Jeffersonian thinks you're frigid, and I have cured you. The guy who saw the tape…I'm afraid we're all over the museum."

"I figured that out."

"I'm sorry-I didn't mean for this to get so out of proportion-"

"You're sorry?" Brennan said. "In case you've forgotten, I came on to you. I'm not frigid."

He laughed. "I know you're not."

Brennan was half-way through forgetting she was hosting a dinner in an hour just as Micah was half-way through getting her out of her top when her apartment door was thrown open without so much as a knock.

"Holy crap, Bones!" Booth exclaimed, and shut the door again. Brennan winced and hurried to button her blouse, so quickly her fingers fumbled.

"It's going to be okay," Micah said in a soft voice. He grabbed her hands to still them and buttoned her himself. "I never thought dating you was going to be easy. I didn't think things would be _quite_ so dramatic, but…"

"I need to go take care of him," she said, grabbing him by the wrists where he still held her collar. "And then I'm going to come back, finish making dinner, and we are going to have a wonderful time, and my friends will love you, and it will be fine."

"Hey. Doc. I know." He brushed her bangs off her forehead. "Calm down."

"I am calm," she lied, and went out into the hall to deal with her partner.

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Booth was pacing the hallway when she shut the door behind her. "Someone in your stupid museum sent me this," he said, holding up his phone. A grainy security video of herself and Micah on the sofa was playing.

"This is ridiculous!" she hissed, only just reining in her voice so the neighbors wouldn't hear. "Is it so unbelievable that I'm having sex that my entire workplace has to broadcast it to the world?"

"Why on earth would you have sex with _him_?"

"You're jealous, aren't you?"

"No-I'm with Hannah."

"So you don't want me, but no one else is allowed to have me either? That isn't fair, Booth. You've never approved of anyone I've ever dated, because they weren't _you._ You gave up on me, remember? You have no claim on who I date."

"No, no. That's not how it happened, Bones. You gave up on me. I tried to get in, you wouldn't let me. _I'm_ the victim here-me!"

She shook her head. "I wasn't ready. If you'd loved me enough you would have waited."

"I don't see you waiting."

"You are being ridiculous! You love Hannah. You've said so over and over. That's fine, I'm glad you do. And I love Micah. So we're both happy, and I don't know why you're so upset."

Booth stopped raging to stare at her. "You love him?"

"I-" She didn't mean to say that. Why had she said that?

"You do," Booth said. "I can tell-you're about to cry."

She blinked back the tears prickling at her eyes. "I'm not-"

Booth sighed and leaned against the wall. "I'm sorry I've been such an ass. I guess-I guess we both screwed up. But we're both better off for it, right?"

"I think so."

"He suits you," Booth said. "Hannah thinks so anyway. I, well, don't."

"I hope you can get over it," Brennan said. "I don't want to lose you as a friend. My best friend."

"That's all we are now, isn't it?"

"Are you okay with that?"

"Yeah. I think so."

"So if we go back in you can be civil to my boyfriend."

"He's old enough to be your father," he complained.

"He is not! You know the two of you have a lot in common," she said, feeling her world aligning. It had taken much longer than three days. "You both love hockey, he has a son…"

"A son?"

"Yes, he's twenty."

"My son is ten."

"Well, Micah is ten years older than you, so it works out."

She opened the door and they walked in together. Micah was in the kitchen chopping lettuce, and he looked up at them with a face of pure innocence. "The two of you have a nice talk?"

88888

Later, after everyone had left (they all seemed to accept Micah without question, and Brennan wondered why she had been so worried) Brennan and Micah went to bed.

"I love you too," he whispered into her ear when they were cuddled up together under the sheets, tired and happy.

She turned to face him. "You were eavesdropping!"

"It wasn't hard. You weren't that quiet. I'm glad the two of you can still be friends."

"Are you mad at me?"

"For telling your partner that you love me? How can I be mad about that?"

"I would have told you eventually. I just didn't completely realize it until I said it aloud."

"I already knew."

"You did?"

"You didn't care about a sordid sex tape circulating the museum. You cared about my job."

"Of course I did."

"Even though my job isn't that important to me."

"Now that you're on day shift we'll be seeing a lot more of each other."

"I want to see as much of you as possible." He grabbed at the sheet to pull it away from her, and she laughed and pulled it back.

"I love you."

"I love you too."


End file.
